Like a bird
by masterofall14
Summary: A crime scene reminds Nick of that fateful night when he was nine. Nick goes into shock and ends up in a coma. If he wants to wake up, he's going to have to face some ugly memories. Babysitter, Nigel Crane, Walter Gordon make an appearance. Tough decisions lie ahead. Nick-centric /team involved. I do not own CSI. Rated T for language and situations
1. You're Beautiful

**My first fanfic, all mistakes are mine, I did not have an English upbringing.**

The crime scene was a home on a housing estate. Lights flashed blue and red against the two story building, leaving a known daunting feeling in everyone's guts. Nick was alone in the 4x4 as he pulled up alongside the yellow tape which stretched out like a warning left by someone who cared. It seemed to say: „We couldn't save him but we will find him justice." It was familiar picture to Nick, one he had seen too many times.

Switching off the engine and undoing his seat belt, the CSI pinched the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger on his right hand while desperately clenching the wheel with his right, knuckles white and eyes tight shut. He was the last member to arrive, for Grissom, Warrick, Sarah, Catherine and Greg had arrived before him. Brass had already phoned him to give him updates and although it was rather uncharacteristic of him, due to recent events was unsurprising.

The Graveyard shift had hardly seen any action in the past month, asides from the death of two prostitutes and the case had been wrapped up before it even began. Though the Crime Lab were pleased to note the decreasing amount of criminal activity in Vegas at night, for it seemed the Day shift were as overloaded as ever, the results on the criminalists themselves were disturbing.

Sarah had become irritable and jumpy, Grissom had been moodier and even less human if that were possible, Catherine had nearly torn her hair out and kept yelling about everyone's attitude, whereas Greg, who always wanted to impress, had deemed it wise to expect a crime to bounce their way at all times, resulting in him doping himself on Caffeine. Nick and Warrick and been in charge, due to Grissom snapping at them because Catherine had yelled at him first; of figuratively and literally scraping Greg off the lab ceiling. It got scarier though when Brass started prowling the corridors and Doc Robbins had begun eying the lab techs while wringing his hands and muttering something about vivisection as a last resort.

Exiting the vehicle, Nick had to admit that the call to this crime scene had been somewhat of a relief for everyone. But the crime itself made Nick want to beg for another unbearable month with his team. Sighing discreetly, he clutched his kit, ducked under the tape and made his way to the house. His steps were hesitant as waves of nausea washed over him, leaving him sweaty and gasping for air. He made his way through the house, ignoring all sounds and following the smell of blood towards the bedroom.

The victim was a young boy nine years old with brown hair. The similarities Nick saw between himself and the body had him almost heaving there and then. Closing his eyes and knowing there was no turning back, he walked towards the body surrounded by his team.

It took him a moment to recognize the scene from a moment from his past. Nick found himself playing spot the difference with the scene in his head and the one before him. This young boy had had similar interests as him such as animals and astronomy according to the small book collection in the corner; his bedroom was painted a sea blue and by the window he was the owner of a neat and tidy desk. Nick mentally slapped himself for allowing himself to get distracted quickly whipped out his camera and started processing the scene. He blocked out the others sad talk of "sexual abuse", "rape" and "couldn't have stopped her" and started photographing the bruises along the boys thighs. Then it struck him. They said _her._ He made the unfortunate mistake of looking at the young boy's eyes. They were brown like his own.

"Nick? Nick!"

At the sound of Grissom's voice, he blinked. He was laying on his back near the victim. Had he passed out? Despite everyone's protests he jumped to his feet. Thankful that he didn't sway, he quickly glanced around in hope that not everyone had noticed his incident. _They had._

Pushing Warrick gently away, he glanced at Catherine and saw that she had made the connection. _Shit._

Would she tell them? She was the only other person who knew and while she had always respected everybody's privacy, fainting like a weak hearted woman was _not _going to stop her. Before she could ask him permission, Grissom cut her off.

"Nick are you well?"

Nick suddenly felt himself shaking. He hadn't reacted like this since he had woken up five months ago in hospital after having been rescued twelve hours after being buried alive. He felt disgusted at himself as tears suddenly flowed freely. Sarah frowned in concern and put her arm on his shoulder but retreated

as he leaped a foot in the air. Grissom grabbed him thoroughly but in a reassuring way by the shoulders.

"Nicky." The fact that he thought whispering would make him feel better along with the stares from everyone had him break out in sobs. He lent against his boss without seeming to be aware that he was taking up the private man's personal space. Suddenly his thoughts were consumed by his memories and Nick was pushed back into his subconscious.

Catherine watched in horror as Nick suddenly stopped weeping as quickly as he had started. He stood slumped to one side and pulled away from Grissom. His eyes glazed over and he fell silent. No one seemed to move or breathe.

Brass reacted first, hurrying over to the broken man and waving his hand, then clicking his fingers. No reaction. Nick was suddenly dead to the world. Brass spun around to face the others.

"Looks like he's gone into shock. I'm calling an ambulance. Keep an eye on him." He scurried out.

Gil was trying to make Nick lay down on the floor near the door as far away from the body to avoid contamination. Nick didn't react and continued to gaze ahead. Together they maneuvered him to the floor. The team glanced at each other helplessly. What were they to do now.

"Okay, Warrick, Sarah keep processing, Catherine..." Grissom's stern gaze said that no one was to argue with him, but before he could finish giving out orders, Nick started screaming.

Clawing at his chest, as if trying to rip his very heart out, he began kicking his feet and the waving his arms as though trying to throw off an unknown enemy. Warrick held him down and started talking to him in a reassuring manner.

"Nick, Nick, come on man..."

Nick's eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright making everyone leap back in shock. He stared at the team with the same glassy look. Then he spoke.

"Please don't touch me again," he whispered like a frightened child, his eyes watering like he was going to cry. "Please, I'll be a good boy, I won't tell my mom."

Everyone glanced at each other and back at Nick. They all got on their knees around him, uncertain as to whether they should touch him or not. Grissom made the decision to grasp his hand. Nick tensed but squeezed back rather than letting go.

"I'll be good, please don't use your fingers again, it hurts." By now he was crying freely and everyone suddenly looked like they understood what was going on but refused to believe it. Catherine was sobbing harder than Nick, mascara running away from her eyes. She stroked his hair while regaining her composure.

"Nick, come on you're safe, you're here with us, you're not there with her come on Nicky..."

He started to struggle harder, and at that moment brass arrived with the ambulance crew in tow. "Please don't fuck me, my mom says it's a bad word."

There came the sound of retching, followed by that god awful smell of stomach acid as Nick turned over and threw up all over Grissom.

**Please review! Thanks for reading.**


	2. That's for sure

**Another chapter!**

Nick jolted awake.

The world spun before his eyes and it took him a moment to focus. A desk swam into him hazy vision followed by a darkened room. Sitting behind the desk, giving him a concerned look, was Brass.

"Hey Jim," he rubbed his eyes with his hand, to help clear his vision. When he opened them again, Brass hadn't moved. He stared at Nick with a compassionate look. At first Nick didn't understand. Then he remembered.

The crime scene.

He glanced back up at Brass, who was now making his way over to him. He mentally calculated the distance between himself, the door and the detective before attempting to make a break for it.

It would seem he's misjudged.

Brass moved faster than Nick had ever seen him and suddenly he was back in his chair with Brass holding him down. He could've fought back, he could've tried to talk his way out of the situation and the office but Nick Stokes suddenly reached the conclusion that it really didn't matter anymore. He ducked his head in shame and waited for the other man to speak. He didn't.

The Detective wandered over to the door and opened it, allowing the rest of the team to pile in. Nick groaned. He just wanted to go home and wake up and discover that none of this had ever happened. To have the ground open up beneath him and swallow him down into some depths where no one could reach him. They most likely had informed his parents, who were on their way and would be demanding explanations. He tried to remember everything. Hadn't he passed out? Shouldn't he be in hospital?

He shifted his gaze back up and winced when he saw that Ecklie was there too. _Damn._ He really hoped he wouldn't loose his job over this. He doubted he'd be allowed more leave, even if his therapist did pass it off as some sort of PTSD brought on by his burial.

It suddenly occurred to him that the others had yet to speak. Making the decision to look them in the eye, he realized that they'd been waiting for him to pay attention. Blinking away unshed tears, he swallowed the growing lump and waited.

After a minute of silence Nick came to the conclusion that they were afraid of upsetting him, even _Ecklie. _Wow, it must've been bad. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence.

"So, how did I get here?"

Following a short pause, Grissom stepped forward. "Nicky," ha said it slowly and quietly as if he would wake his comrade up or as if Nick would suddenly fly into a sudden rage, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Nick cleared his throat again, a clear sign to anyone who knew him that he was uncomfortable and that he was preparing his defenses for a verbal attack. "We were processing a scene and... I got... ill?" He looked up at the other man's face for confirmation. When the latter's face remained expressionless he continued. "I got ill and..." He shook his head in confusion. "I heard Brass call an ambulance. Why am I not at the hospital? How did I get here?" His Texan accent became more pronounced as he furrowed his brow. "What happened?"

Grissom frowned. "You really don't remember?" At Nick's raised eyebrow he sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you."

He pulled up a chair; the rest of the team decided to lean against the desk and walls; they obviously weren't leaving anytime soon. Nick shifted uncomfortably under their worrying stares. Why _him_?

Nick drew his attention to a patient Grissom. "The ambulance arrived. You recovered a bit and they checked you over. Gave you a good diagnosis and said that you were to take it easy. By then you were lucid and quiet. Greg and Sarah stayed behind to process the scene and Brass and I drove you back to the lab. You fell asleep along the journey. I woke you up when we arrived here and brass told you he would call your parents. I told you to stay here while I spoke with Conrad. When we returned you were fast asleep. You don't recall any of this?"

Nick wracked his brain for a few minutes. "I remember people checking me over and helping me outside. I don't remember any of that other stuff you mentioned." How could he have just gone and fallen asleep like that on everyone?

However, Grissom seemed unsurprised at his lack of memory. "It's understandable and natural. Don't feel embarrassed." His lips quirked in a small sympathetic smile that reached his eyes. He reached forward to pat Nick's knee, then obviously decided against it. Nick couldn't help feel a little hurt. Still, the smile was nice.

"So, eh, guess I'm fired for having contaminated a crime scene?" He turned to Ecklie, his voice hoarse, as though it hadn't been used in a while. He twiddled his thumbs and fiddled the hem of his shirt. Conrad slowly approached him. Since when had their boss been so considerate?

"NO!" Nick was startled out of his thoughts as Catherine moved to stop Ecklie. "Not now. It's too _soon._"

Nick scowled in confusion. What the heck? Before he could ask her for an explanation and before Ecklie could retaliate, Grissom stood up.

"Yes." His voice was full of determination. "She's right. Not now."

"Hey wait a second," called out Nick trying to get their attention. Don't I have the right to know if I'm not allowed to drag my ass back in here tomorrow? My career is on the line here guys, so please let him answer my question."

Warrick looked nervous. "Are you sure we can't just..."

"NO!" Catherine drew herself to her full height until he backed off. "Not now. It's against the rules."

"What?" Nick wanted to hit something. Or throw something. Or both. "What on earth are you talkin' about? Have I been declared medically insane or something? 'Cos right now I just want to know whether or not I'm gonna work with you guys again, or if I should just get the hell out of here."

Catherine massaged her forehead with both hands. No one else moved. Nick would've loved to have just get up and walk out, but his body and mind were too drained to cooperate with one another.

"Nick." Ecklie was surprisingly calm despite three people having cut him off. He was also very nervous of the others and seemed to be trying to stay as far away from them as possible. Maybe their attitude over the past month had had more of an effect on him than he wished to let on. "Nick, some thing's happened. And until we know how it's going to pan out, I can't say much that would be one hundred per cent truthful."

There was more silence as Nick took this into account. "You mean with the administration, paperwork and that stuff right?"

"Yes, of course" Ecklie was smiling. _Smiling._ Nick groaned and and worked his fingers over his temples. "What was wrong with today?"

Someone placed their hand on his shoulder. Warrick. His best friend looked concerned and guilty. Probably for not having guessed his emotional attachment with abuse cases years ago.

"It's gonna be okay buddy. You'll see."

Nick placed his hand over Warrick's and squeezed. The physical contact was reassuring. He could hear the others muttering quietly, trying to give him some space. He hoped they wouldn't treat him differently in the futur.

Nick was relieved he hadn't been unconscious too long. He couldn't have been because Warrick didn't look any worse for wear than he had earlier and he hadn't changed clothes.

_Hadn't changed clothes._ Nick blinked. Then turned his head.Grissom.

_Grissom._

_He'd thrown up all over Grissom._

Grissom who was whispering quietly to Catherine and Ecklie, still wearing the same jeans and top he had that morning.

He gasped.

At that moment, everyone's heads snapped around to look at him. Ecklie swore.

"No time." Suddenly Nick was on his back and he couldn't remember being there. "We should've been more careful." He glared at Grissom.

Warrick had to lean over his friend to look him in the eye. "It's gonna be okay, your friends will always be there for you."

Nick glared back. "Aren't you my friend?"

Warrick bit his lip, something Nick hadn't seen him do often. "No Nick." He stood up, had one last look at the upset criminalist on the floor and followed the others out of the room, before Nick had the time to come up with a proper response.

Nick was left alone with Ecklie, as the door swung shut.

The latter gave him a sad look. "I'm sorry Nick," he actually had the decency to look regretful, "but you have to stand up to it."

"What're you talkin' about man, what's up with the others?" Nick blinked back unwanted tears. _Not now._

"It keeps coming up with things to taunt you. You need to learn and to cope to be able to advance in life, with your friends."

Nick blinked up at him owlishly. He couldn't even begin to formulate a sentence. He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.

"We were going to start off slowly, but since you realized that something was wrong..." His face took on a pained look. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm _so _sorry, Nick. But it's taunting you. Life's taunting you."

He opened the door.

A blond woman sauntered in. Nick first mistook her for Catherine. But as she turned to face him, his heart stopped.

It was _her._

Nick opened his mouth to scream at Ecklie, but she rushed over to him and clamped her hand over his mouth. He tried to fight her off, but she was too strong. _What was happening? _His heart was pounding wildly, his lungs aching from lack of oxygen, eyes streaming, Nick barely noticed that someone was undoing his belt; not until a hand reached down his underwear and cupped him.

Nick screamed.

888

_beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep...beep..._

**Please review! And thanks again to everyone who did for the first chapter!**

**More soon**


	3. You'll never ever Fade

**Thanks to everyone for your support!**

Grissom stalked the corridors like a nervous animal. The rest of the team were sat along the corridor against the wall, their eyes following his steady march. It was giving Sarah a headache and making Greg dizzy.

Nick was still being assessed by the doctors and nurses. Half an hour ago they had waltzed into his room and hadn't left since.

Another agonizing scream came out the door and Grissom immediately barged in, ignoring the doctors' protests. The team followed.

Grissom was clutching Nick's hand, despite still being covered in his stomach contents and trying to calm him down. Catherine rested her head on Warrick's shoulder and sobbed; seeing Nick buried alive had frightened them all, but this was worse on a whole new scale. Nick's cries didn't even sound human; he sounded like a wild, wounded animal being eaten alive by something a lot larger and and deadlier than fire ants. There were restraints on his arms; he was strong enough in this state to cause a lot of harm to anyone who dared to come close enough. It didn't stop him from thrashing like he was trying to throw off an unseen enemy.

He began yelling again, and not what everyone thought he would.

"Ecklie, help me!"

And speaking of the devil, Conrad chose that moment to walk through the door. Grissom had phoned him while breaking several speed limits to get to the hospital. The assistant director had finished up paperwork and had driven down calmly, wondering what mess Stokes had gotten himself into this time. Upon arriving in the room, he had not expected Nick to ask him of all people to get him out of the hospital.

But as he looked closer, he realized that Nick was still unconscious and restrained. The CSI's heart rate was rocketing, the machine's were enough proof of that. And whatever he was dreaming of, Ecklie guessed that he was present in the man's subconscious.

He glared at Grissom. "You said he had some sort of Flashback. You said nothing about _this._" He gestured to Nick, who was being given sedatives to stop him from injuring himself.

"He was calming down when they checked him over at the crime scene, then he passed out for good. When we arrived here all was quiet, but now he just started up again, worse this time." Warrick had stepped forward to protect Grissom, feeling that somehow they were all at fault for the lack of communication.

Ecklie sighed, then jolted when Nick cried out his name again. He frowned, then looked at the others for an explanation. They shrugged.

Sarah stood next to Grissom and ran her fingers gently through Nick's hair. She watched his eyeballs roll around in their sockets behind his eyelids.

"I wonder what he's dreamin' about."

Grissom looked up at her and rose his eyebrows, giving her the sense that he was about to become all philosophical. "Who knows. The mind is a wondrous thing. But I would imagine it's rather unpleasant."

The assistant director cleared his throat to regain everyone's attention. "Sidle, Willows, Brown and Sanders, go finish processing, and no arguments!" He walked out before anyone could protest.

Sighing, the four designated patted Nick's arm and trudged out of the room to rejoin Brass at the scene. Grissom was left alone with Nick.

888

Nick had never fought so hard. Something was restraining his arms, because they didn't seem to want to work. He didn't bother holding back the tears. He tried to bite her, but she kept avoiding him. His screams got louder as she pulled his pants and boxers down.

No, no, no, no, NO! He tried to buck her off, tried to keep his middle section constantly moving but his muscles were tired, as if he had been drugged. Had he been drugged? What had she done to him?

All of a sudden, _she _was leaning forward, whispering in his ear.

"What's the matter Nicky? Don't you want this? You're a big boy now, come on, don't be _shy._ Your mummy's not coming to save you_ this time. _You should know how to use this now._" _She ran a finger down his manhood...

"SHUT UP!" Nick tugged at his arms. He couldn't let her do this again. Not again. He gasped as she began to suck at his neck and earlobe.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU DERANGED BITCH!"

But try as he might, she didn't stop. Soon they were both naked and she began to rub herself against him, trying to get some friction. Nick shifted his lower body left and right all the while sobbing. In the end, he gave up. What was the point? She always got what she wanted. She'd haunted him for over twenty five years.

That's when it struck him. _Ecklie had let her in._

"ECKLIE!," only now did he realize that the other man was still there, watching them. "CONRAD, HELP ME!"

The Assistant director wandered over slowly, looking Nick firmly in the eyes. He crouched down next to the pair. She took no notice of him. Nick grasped his ankle like a lifeline.

"Please, don't do this to me." His tears were warm and sticky. Her tongue ran over his face and Nick's brain, with all the brain power it had left, questioned whether he could get her to stop if he threw up again.

"No, Nick. That won't work." Oh, great, Ecklie can read minds. "You're asking the wrong questions. This is your subconscious Nick, I'm not the real Conrad. I'm a part of you. But I can't help you. This is for you to do."

Nick suddenly found that she'd sat up to grin intimidatingly down at him. Gathering his last strength, he lifted his legs and kicked her hard in the abdomen. She flew across the room and smashed into the desk. She howled in agony and slowly picked herself up.

"Nick. Think about that night. You don't want to. I know that. I sympathize with you. But think. Why? Why would she do that? Sexual curiosity? Mental illness? Were you the only one? Did your inactions condemn _others_?"

She was back on her feet using the wall for support. Nick however was gaping like a fish at Ecklie's words. He was beginning to understand. He wasn't at the lab. He must've passed out and been taken to hospital. And now his mind was playing tricks on him, taunting him after having witnessed firsthand that aftermath of the small boy's abuse, so familiar to his own. _She's not real._

Conrad, however, looked impatient.

"No, she's real. She's not your imagination, she's a distorted memory. Of a very real experience. And you've often wondered haven't you? Whether you should have said something. But worse is your fear of commitment. Because commitment to a relationship means engaging in physical pleasure. It's okay if you're in control. But you won't always be. And she took that away from you."

Nick struggled as she tried to climb back onto him. Tackling her with his feet, Ecklie's words somehow made sense. He did pretend to the team that he was a womanizer, because it avoided questioning his sexuality and past experiences. She'd taken away his freedom of commitment. Of love.

He was pushed back flat on his back, and Nick knew she was going to come down on him. Her fingers wrapped around his manhood and to his horror, his body was responding. He ran the conversation back through his mind again, trying to pinpoint something Ecklie had said, anything at all to help him. She was real, but not real. Desperate to cause him emotional and physical pain, judging by the way she was scraping her nails over his chest, leaving scratch marks. She bent over and attacked his mouth, forcing him to respond as she plunged her tongue into his mouth. Nick started to gag. _Help me._

_Real, but not real. Why did she do it back then? That's what Ecklie said..._

She aligned her entrance up with him. The look in her eyes was crazed, like she wanted to get back at him, back at the world.

The penny dropped.

Nick's face would've split into a grin, had he not still been fighting back sobs. Looking her in the eye, deciding it was too late to back down, he made the decision.

And his arms were suddenly free.

Taking a shaky breath, he grasped her shoulders tightly, enough to cause pain.

He smirked humorlessly up at her, his eyes strangely blank after his recent turmoil of emotions.

"Go on then. Do it. Show me how tough you really are."


	4. You're lovely

**Thanks again to everyone!**

The Doctors were baffled. The CT scans hadn't shown anything wrong with Nick, except that his brain activity showed that he should be up, about and alert. They had already called a specialist and a psychiatrist in to look at the results and determine what was wrong with him. Grissom had been given hospital scrubs to put on had hadn't left Nick's side since. The latter was still squirming and muttering incomprehensibly, sometimes thrashing as though he were fighting for his life. Grissom couldn't help but wonder whether Nick was back in the box. Or was it another trauma?

The plastic white chair beside him shifted and he glanced up to see an exhausted Catherine seat herself next to him.

"Back so soon?"

"They don't need me. Statements from the boys parents confirm that they left their son with the neighbor in her late teens. Her name is Tina Portman. Brass is hammering her now back in interrogation. As long as physical evidence matches up," she paused to look up at the ceiling, swiping hair out of her sky blue eyes, rimmed with tears. She took extra care to drag out the last words. "As long as the evidence confirms what we know, she'll go away for a long time."

Grissom shifted in his chair to face her. He knew a comforting hand would be too much and she would shake it off and he couldn't risk that because he really needed answers.

"Catherine." He chewed his bottom lip with a pensive thought on his face, choosing his words with care. "I have reason to believe that you understand what is wrong with Nick."

As predicted, she shifted and pulled away from him, an instinctive defensive mechanism if he wasn't mistaken, one she did a lot if she wasn't comfortable with the conversation.

"Gil, I..."

"No, Catherine, hear me out please." He relaxed as she turned back to him. "Please, as his supervisor, it's important for me to know what is going on with my team and especially if it affects everyone's work and health. I don't ask a lot about people's lives or how they react to certain cases, but I kneed to know and so will Conrad when he next contacts us. Please Catherine, I need to know if something like this will occur often with Nick." He decided to keep pressing as she began to cry. "Back at the house, he sounded like he was trapped in a hallucination, that had nothing to do with what happened a few months ago. Everyone heard it, even the officers outside heard what he was yelling."

He touched her upper arm in support as she closed her eyes in defeat. He waited patiently as she took a minute to compose herself. She took a breath.

"I don't know the full details, although from what he said back at the house, it"s most likely a lot worse than what I first believed. Nick told me a few years ago after I threatened to chuck him off a case, that something happened to him one night when a, to quote, "Last minute baby-sitter" came to take care of him when he was nine."

Grissom sat back in shock. He had suspected as much, but to hear it, meant to imagine it. He shook the

mental picture of a younger Nick at the hands of a twisted woman. He ran his hands over his eyes to shake the sensation of much needed sleep.

"I don't know whether recent trauma made it worse for him this time, or what set it off, but he's going to need counseling and a friend to be there for him." She concluded with a heavy sigh. "I would, but I promised Lindsay I'd be around more, especially after witnessing first hand how mortal we all are, after Nick was kidnapped..."

Grissom nodded. He understood what she was saying. Everyone had been trying harder lately. Even Conrad.

"I'll be there." His words surprised him, more than they did Catherine. "I'll try and do better for him this time."

Catherine smiled in gratitude, on Nick's behalf and tentatively squeezed his hand. "Now we just need him to wake up."

888

Snarling. Growling. Nick would never have applied these to humans before. But that's what she was doing as she grasped what was happening. She had lost grip on her control over him.

Nick was panting heavily and putting on a brave facade in an attempt to destabilize her. She wouldn't have him this time. Couldn't have him. He was a thirty six year old man, who'd had close scrapes with death before. He was no longer that timid, gullible, nine year old boy who sat in the dark waiting for his mom to come home.

Tightening his grip, digging his nails into the flabby flesh of her shoulders, he couldn't help but leer at her nervous look. _He _in control now.

"Hey, Nancy. What do you say we do things a little differently to last time? Me on top?" He flipped over their combined weight with difficulty. His body still felt heavy and drugged. But the more he focused on what was at hand and the more he accepted this was all inside his head, he became detached from reality and his body altogether. Whether that was worrying or not didn't concern him for now. He just had to understand her, to accept the past and the present.

The look of horror that flitted across her face had him freeze in bewilderment. He didn't know of course

if she had been abused herself. He'd always told himself she must've been. It helped him cope with the trauma. In fact he'd convinced himself to the point that now his memory of her believed it too. But maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Her actions became feral, her eyes wild as she clawed at his chest, followed by a knee to the groin. He rolled off her and curled in on himself. He may be able to abstract himself from his body, but that didn't mean physical blows didn't hurt like hell in his brain either.

She started beating him with all her strength. Kicking him and grabbing fistfuls of his hair so as to smash his face into the floor. With each blow, Nick could feel himself bruising and bleeding. The office floor was unwelcoming as his head was risen, then driven back down. Shapes and colors were generated in front of his eyes and he hopped he wouldn't suffer a head trauma from this.

Through the blackness that was overwhelming him, he caught sight of her bent legs as she stood over him. _Oh yeah, forgot we were both naked. _He snatched her ankle and she lost her balance, collapsing in a very undignified way on top of him. Pulling himself up, he grabbed her by her hair and held her in a choke hold against the wall, only to find himself stumbling backwards until the edge of the desk caught

his spine; he didn't hold himself back from yelling in pain.

He was pushed backwards until she straddled his chest and his legs were dangling over the side. He seized her thighs and performed a backward roll, unused muscles in his back protesting as he rotated into the irregular position. As they fell to the floor, she landed head first, whereas Nick's chin bashed against the ledge of the table. They landed in a heap of dazed bare limbs.

Once he'd caught his breath, he stood up using the chair for support, aware that the crazy woman beneath him was going to take chunks out of his flesh if he didn't stop her from biting his upper legs.

It was only when she bit down less than an inch from his manhood that he finally gasped in pain and grasped her hair in one hand and her jaw in the other. He pried her off his leg, wincing as more blood ran down towards his foot. He lifted her by the neck until they could stare at each other in the eyes, two very different people, expressing very different emotions.

Breathing through his nose, trying to slow his heart beat, he counted to ten before speaking out of gritted teeth.

"STOP! Stop this _now._ I don't know what happened to the real Nancy, for her to do what she did. But you need to stop trying to hurt me."

"Go on then," she glared defiantly, eyes blazing, "do what I did to you! You'll see how easy it is to become what I became!"

"NO!"

"Come on, you know you want to!"

"I said no!"

"FUCK ME!"

"I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU!" Deep breaths were necessary, as he began to sob, his face crumpling up, the sobs wracking his frame. He let go of her hair and gently stroked her face, fingertips running across her dimples, nose and lips. He released his grip on her neck and watched her carefully as she slumped against the wall, head bowed, flowing blond hair covering her chest. "I will never hurt you that way. _Never._"

The last words were said with sheer determination and he huffed in relief as she finally collapsed to the floor, defeated and silent. Nick took a moment to compose himself. He was surprised it was over so quickly. He jumped when he heard applause behind him.

Everyone had crowded back into the room, wide grins on their faces. Their pride was obvious in their eyes and they all had massive grins on their faces. Nick had started towards them before realizing that he was still in his birthday suit. Glancing down, he winced at the sight of criss-cross scratches, bruising

and blood trickling down his body. He wondered how he was going to protect his dignity before deciding that it didn't matter; he was dreaming after all.

"Okay" Conrad rubbed his hands together, looking serious, "congratulations Nick, I honestly believed I would have to step in at some point but you performed marvelously."

Nick wiped away the remainder of his tears, clearing his throat. "So, I wake up now, right?"

"Afraid not. You've still got more memories to face. It won't be pleasant, but I wish you the best of luck."

"You're not coming?"

"No, Nick. I've done my part it's up to someone else now." He grinned another very Un-Conrad like grin before heading out the door. "I'll see you in your dreams, Nick."

Nick swallowed. He rather hoped not.

Most of the team filed out, leaving him, his next mentor and Nancy alone. He watched as she shuffled up to him. He still felt slight revulsion, but no longer fear.

"Where are you going?" It was asked not unkindly.

She shrugged. "Back to your childhood home, to await your next dream." She glanced at him shyly. "Maybe it won't be so bad for either of us from now on."

He gathered up his courage and placed a hasty kiss in her unmarred cheek. "See you again, some day."

She grinned in a way that made his stomach churn.

But he didn't miss the tears in her eyes, as she left.

**I hope you agree with the way I did this. **

**So anyone know who the next person to help him will be? Find out soon!**

**And please review! It helps me work to better the story.**


	5. But it's not for sure

**Sorry for the delay, had some personal issues to deal with. Hope you can forgive me.**

They left the office side-by-side and Nick was almost convinced that he wasn't asleep. Everyone was going about their usual duties, analysing weapond and DNA. They took no notice as he walked past. He paused when he reached the locker room door.

"I need clothes, 'cause... You know." He gestured vaguely at his body.

"Sure man, go ahead."

White shirt, faded jeans and a few badages later, Nick strutted out into the corridors and headed towards the exit. He had no idea where they were headed, but he wanted his pace to look confident. His feet seemed to know where to go, so he didn't have much choice in the matter. Trusting his instincts and his companion. He found himslf unbothered by the fact that he didn't truly understand his predicament. He would wake up sooner or later.

As they reached the doors, he froze in surprise.

"Why is it so dark outside?"

"It's not dark. There is no outside."

"Why?"

"This is your subconscious, man, not mine."

Nick snorted with laughter. "You sayin' I've got no imagination?"

"I'm saying you need a change of scenery."

Nick was going to argue, but decided against it. Playing smartass with his brain was going to give him a head ache.

"Where will it take us?"

"Don't know." The nonchalent shrug irritated him more than it should.

Raising his eyebrows, Nick swung the door open and stepped out. But there was nothing for him to walk on to. He suddenly plummeted over the edge and shot downwards into nothingness. This was it. He was going to die.

888

Grissom and Catherine jumped out of their seats as Nick's heart monitor suddenly flatlined. A group of the Doctors rushed in and ushered them out of the room. Gil really hoped Catherine wouldn't break any bones in his hand, her vice-like grip was remarkable, yet painful. She was crying freely, leaning her full weight against him.

"Oh god Gil, what's wrong with him?" Her voice was blubbery, tears leaving even more trails of mascara down her face. She looked a decade older. Gil had never seen her actually cry, but he knew that she was very close to Nick, someone she knew she could depend on. He was the glue in the team's relationship. The duct tape. To no longer hear his voice in the lab... She wouldn't be able to bear it.

"Catherine, you have to trust the doctors, they know what they're doing." Grissom couldn't help wincing. "And you might want to let go of my hand. _Please._"

"Oh Gil, I'm sorry." She wiped messily at her cheeks, spreading mascara over her face. "I need to get a hold of myself." She sat down with her back against the wall. "But Gil, they don't know what they're doing. They don't know what's happening to Nicky as much as we do!"

Gil was uncharacteristicly quiet. Catherine found herself needing to fill the empty space, to avoid rushing back into Nicky's room. "I mean, it has to be PTSD, but why he's unconcious and keeps dying..." She shook her head. "Nicky doesn't just give up. He's not the one dying it's his body failing. I know what I'm saying is completely against science here but... Nick's the strongest one out of all of us."

The doctors swept out of the room. "He's back. We're calling in a specialist from Seattle. He should be okay now, but you never know."

Grissom nodded, his eyes serious. "Thank you for all you have done."

888

The air tasted dusty. Taking deep breaths to help calm his heart rate, Nick decided against opening his eyes and explored with his other senses. The ground or whatever it was was cold, sleek and stuck to his palms like the panes of a window or the walls in the lab. Glass maybe? He couldn't smell anything, to the point he felt lost without having some sort of scent to identify his current location. Being a CSI, he didn't realise how dependant he had become to smelling death, blood, garbage and all types of gas to avoid dropping dead. Without forgetting Greg's all important Hawaian blue, Catherine's perfume and Grissom's bug life and books.

But here, now, in this strange, Nick could hear and smell nothing.

Opening his eyes, he looked around and his eyes landed on Warrick. The latter stood above him, a grin lighting up those green eyes.

"Scared you there, heh? Oh man, you should've seen the look on your face!" he roared with laughter.

Nick blinked. Two times. Three times. And then he exploded.

"YOU MADE ME THINK I WAS DYING ON PURPOSE! YOU BASTARD!" Nick struggled. "If I could stand, I'd BLOODY STRANGLE YOU!"

"Relax, Nick. Save your energy."

"So what's my mission this time?" Nick was still red with anger. "Who am I up against? Come on, I just want to get this over with and wake up."

Warrick hesitated. "You sure man? Cos this won't be easy, even if you keep telling yourself that this is your imagination." he smirked, "Although I think we can both agree your brain needs a makeover."

"Does not."

"Does to."

"Shut up!"

"Sorry Nick, but I have to agree with him."

Nick blanched as the new arrival stepped into his line of view. He couldn't help but try to crawl away. _Not this guy, please not this guy._

"Help me Warrick, we don't have forever." Nigel Crane smirked. Warrick laughed.

Simultaneously, they bent down and snatched a leg each and dragged a screaming Nick across the floor, his nails making a high keening sound as he scrabbled for a purchase he would never find.


	6. That I won't ever change

**Short update. Sorry it can't be longer, hope to update again soon!**

Nick was pissed. He seethed in frustration, his eyes following Nigel Crane as the man stalked around Nick's bedroom. Nigel and Warrick had dragged him into his old house, tied him to his bed and Warrick had left with a cheery wave, wishing him luck and reminding him that if he died, he promised to tell his family he loved them.

Nick was now leant against his headboard, counting imaginary dots on his ceiling, and praying that his being tied to the bed had nothing to do with his encounter with the babysitter. Nigel was a stalker, an obsessive, psychotic maniac. He had believed himself to be Nick's friend. Nick remebered the discussion they had had in his living room after Nigel had come down through his ceiling with a dead body. He had felt a kind of kinship with Nick. Nick wondered if this copy of Nigel was a sexual predator perhaps his subconcious was going to take out all of his repressed fears on him. He rested his chin on his chest and bit his lip to hold back tears. What had he done to deserve this ?

"Not going to _cry,_ are you, Nick?"

Nick shuddered as he heard footsteps getting closer. After a minute, he realised that Nigel was circling him. Slow, steady steps of a predator and Nick was his prey. Nick braved this cruel reality and opened his eyes and gasped as a hand suddenly covered his face. A cloth was tied around his head, blocking his view and allowing him to breathe and speak. He swallowed heavily, his breath small, desperate pants. His hands were reattatched behind his back. He would have laughed had he not been so scared. One bloke tying up another? An onlooker would've thought that the whole thing looked rather kinky. That is, unless someone realised how terrified Nick was.

He was now on his knees, in his bedroom, with Nigel giggling like a crazy lunatic and no idea of what was going to happen next. He was _so_ going to kill Warrick when he got out of here.

Nigel began to taunt him, making noises to his left, then right, near, then right at the other end of the room. Nick began to panic, wondering what this was all about. The babysitter had been easy, but what was he supposed to do about this? Nothing about his situation made sense.

He yelped when hands landed on his shoulders and wrenched away, shivering, until he hit a wall. Suddenly, a body was pressed up against his and he couldn't escape. A breath against his ear was warm and all Nick wanted to do was curlin on himself and become so small that Nigel and all the others would never find him again. He never wanted his friends to judge him for this. Their appalled looks, the silence whenever he walked into a room, the pity...

Nigel pressed his lips to Nick's ear, his voice hitched in excitement. "Run, Nick. _Run."_


End file.
